Once more, we have reached the end
As my sister rises from her chair
With the crashing waves of the ocean
Soon to bury our light of hope
And bring chaos to the shores
She nears the fountain
Turns to the crowd
Awaits for the beams of the moon
To wash over her pale skin
Calling the attention of hundreds
She drags her smile to her cheeks
And everyone watches her
Blind to fate, ignorant to a storm
Brewing just beyond the glass
Of the tower
Libra waves to the crowd. "Good evening, everyone. I would like to thank you for visiting us in this greatly anticipated and rewarded reunion. We have walked a treacherous road since we last had such an event. The tyrant of Autumn, a name I wish to bury, had once burnt a seal of a curse upon our earth. From what you remember, the tyrant had unleashed a devastating war upon her neighbors and conquered swiftly with violence. We, as celestials under her watch, were once blades and shields to her reign. I can assure you that times have changed. I know you look to me with doubt hiding under your gazes. You fear we are a blight to humanity. You believe we are what brings the end. But during the war, my sister had used her abilities to foresee a greater future for us."
She glances to me. A hundred eyes follow. "She guided us to an escape from the tyrant's grasp and helped us to turn our backs against our false savior. When we were blind and forced to see the world as Autumn had imagined it, she saw past the dark of our carved fates and sought a solution. This solution, however, did not go unnoticed. Autumn witnessed her slaves of children turn into her own worst nightmare. We heard your pleas. We saw your fear. We had finally grasped what that woman had never let us experience... emotion."
Everyone returns their focused stares to my sister as she echoes words of encouragement across the lobby. Though she speaks of our earned ability to see, I am the only one to hear the crawling thunder that beckons from the horizon. I gaze into the walls near my table, sweeping my gaze across the glass of the structure, and watch as a barrier between the light of the tower and the dark of the night begins to crack.
"With our battles against our own kind proven successful, we would affirm that the tides have truly turned in humanity's favor. No longer are we threatened by the commands of Autumn. No longer do we face torment and deception against the danger of her creations. Taurus, the celestial who was once the leader of the tyrant's forces, has been buried in the earth that he once controlled. The ruler responsible for a long, unforgiving war now rests in an eternal prison, held by chains the size of her crimes."
The crack doubles in size with an abrupt crunch. I look behind me and another one forms. I look above me and find another. It's happening again. The very foundation of my future is collapsing again.
"The war against the stars, safe to say, has finally come to an end. I know there is still much to do to earn your trust. I am aware there are still many things you do not understand. From this moment forward, however, please recognize this gathering as a truce of peace. We are no longer your enemy. If we must be servants, then we will be servants to humanity."
The cracks draw across the glass like branches in a tree. They spread like wildfire, fracturing the glass surrounding us, yet no one witnesses the same. They continue to look to her, smiling and clapping, and remain blind as they always have.
Yet, in all their failures to remain aware, there are some things that not even I can see.
"With that," she lowers her glass to the table in front of her, "I take my leave."
The cracks turn into carvings. The wind threatens to shatter them. The thunder roars louder. The rain slices the air and wishes to slice the tower in the same way. I will not be witness to this torment again. I raise from my chair, push myself aside from the table, and pace toward my sister across the lobby. She stands in front of me, the water of the fountain sparkling behind her, and she smiles with a shimmering gaze.
"No, you cannot," I call out to her. The watch of humanity returns to me.
"Sister, I must. The storm brews greater, and if I do not leave soon, it will bury the aircraft's ability to leave," Libra responds. I shake my head.
"No, I can't let you. I've searched my branches, and they only speak of violence for you," I respond. Her smile wrenches into a frown. Her expression grows annoyed and she shakes her head back at me.
"You do not need to worry about me, sister. You have been unnerved since the end of the war. Had you not listened to my speech? Are you not assured that we have finally met with peace?" Libra raises her hands and shrugs her shoulders. "I'm sorry, but we have little time to waste. If what you say is true, then you must let me go now before the storm takes me. I may be able to move the oceans, but the rain above still follows its own stride."
I close my eyes and reach out my hand. Growing in frustration, I call to my place in the stars and gather what control left I can muster within myself. A beaming light begins to flicker from my palm. Just over the crevices of my skin, I feel the warmth of a raging heat burn white and solidify in my grasp. Enclosing my fingers around the rising heat, I feel the light of a dozen stars crawling over a beaming rod. It extends from the edges of my palms and shines out past my hold. I open my eyes again and grasp a thin, white staff shining my skin pale with my other hand. Spinning it to stand tall with me, I slam it to my side and hold a firm stance against her judgment.
"I said," I tighten my grip around the staff that stands to my shoulders, "You cannot."
Libra lowers her gaze to the floor and sighs. "Not everything can be under your control, Aries. Follow that very thought and you may walk the same fate as Autumn."
She turns her back to me, walking towards the fountain and the exit just beyond it.
"Libra," I call to her, asking for her compliance, though the answer has been burned into my memory.
"I'll see you again soon," she says.